


epiphany

by schmorygilmore



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Inner Dialogue, Romance, Slight Smut, post 7x16
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29348673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schmorygilmore/pseuds/schmorygilmore
Summary: "You’ve never been able to look away. She’s the sun to you, man. Just wake up and see the light." - (one shot, post 7x16, canon divergent)
Relationships: Donna Paulsen & Harvey Specter, Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	epiphany

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hey guys! This was just a little thing that fell out of my brain and onto the page and thanks to Sarah and Luisa for looking over it for me and fixing all my typos and Isa, this is for you. I gave you what you wanted, so be nice. Love you guys, enjoy! (Spoiler alert: it's a 7x16 fix it fic)

—

_epiphany_

_—_

Grasping his glass firmly in his hand, he pulls it up to his lips and takes a solid sip of the amber liquid, letting it slide down his throat as he settles back comfortably on the gold colored chair, legs slightly spread in a relaxed position as he looks on in her direction.

She's off in the distance of the venue, flitting over from guest to remaining guest, the room dwindling, playing the ever lovely hostess that she is. Granted, it's her best friend's wedding, but she pulled it together with flying colors. Today is about Rachel, so she's gladly taking over the responsibilities of bidding goodbyes to everyone, affording Rachel the opportunity to dance with her husband one last time.

He's been watching her all night, at least every moment she hasn't been right next to him. He's always been mesmerized by her and tonight is just more of the same. The way she presents herself to the world like she's colored in sparkles and light, the way she seems to breathe for other people rather than herself, it's always been something that mystifies him. She is truly a miraculous sight to behold, no matter the time or place.

He continues watching her as she makes her way to Rachel, who has finally broken away from her husband and is bidding a goodbye to Robert and Laura. She's animated as she speaks to the Zanes and the Rosses and then he watches as she and Rachel finally have their minute alone. He knows he's going to miss Mike but he imagines Donna will miss Rachel more than imaginable, which is all but confirmed as he watches the girls embrace in a hug so deep he himself could even feel it, even from his spot where he's sat at the rented table.

He stares as they exchange teary goodbyes filled with what he imagines are promises to call every chance they get and whispered talks of how nothing changes.

As he raises his glass to take another sip and continues to look on at the redhead and her friend, he realizes that this year has been full of changes and so many downs and quite little ups that he wonders if just one positive thing could change. It was like one disaster after another, with the firm and the terrible idea of a relationship and Mike and Rachel leaving and _the kiss._

The kiss hits his brain in color waves and he finds himself drawn to her lips. Even in the far off distance of the venue, he can still almost feel them against his. He hasn't been able to think of much else since she crossed the floor of her office and practically swallowed his soul. And tonight, as they danced, pressed so tightly together he could have melted right into her, he had to fight his brain to keep himself on solid ground and not just float away. He had to remember that she didn't feel anything and that she didn't want more. He had to remind himself that her cheek pressed against his was not an invitation to get closer, that it was just a dance and not the first steps to forever.

Thanking God he asked the bartender for a double on the last round, he once again raises the glass to his lips and takes a sip. Just as he's swallowing down another sip of scotch, he feels a hand pressed to his shoulder. Turning his head up he nods a hello to his newly married friend, as he watches Mike take a seat next to him.

"Hey," Mike says.

Harvey just nods his hello, suddenly unable to grasp proper use of the English language, too completely captivated by the red and black he sees in front of his eyes. He sees, out of the corner of his eye, Mike staring him down for a minute with a questioning glance before turning his head in the same direction as his, finally realizing what has his full attention.

"Dude," Mike comments with a subtle eye roll.

Harvey, too enraptured to truly acknowledge the tiny jab, just responds with a, "What?"

Mike settles back in his chair, turning toward the older man, calling his name to get his attention. Finally breaking his gaze, Harvey looks at his friend, who all but appears to be preparing for battle.

"Tell me again that you don't want to be with her," Mike says, finally grasping Harvey's regard.

Harvey just responds with a shake of his head, taking another sip, clearly trying to avoid any minuscule moment of this conversation.

"No, man, for real. Lie to me again. Tell me you don't want her. Tell me you don't want more with her," Mike retorts.

"I'm not having this conversation with you again, Mike," Harvey says sternly.

"Yeah," Mike sighs. "Except this time, I'm not letting you get away with that. I'm not letting you avoid this," Mike presses.

"Mike," Harvey starts before he's interrupted.

"No, Harvey, I'm leaving in two days for the other side of the country, consider this my last and most well deserved Harvey ass-kicking," Mike responds. Eyebrows raised in surprise, Harvey just waits for his friend to continue, twirling his nearly empty glass in his hand.

"Listen, Harvey. Donna—" Mike starts, internally rolling his eyes at just the way her name causes Harvey to visibly react. "Donna has been by your side for years, she's put you in your place and kept you grounded and yeah, she made a choice recently that maybe wasn't the smartest decision, but it's like you said so many years ago: 'Donna doesn't make mistakes'."

Harvey shakes his head at that, looking away from Mike toward her direction one more time, watching as she finally hugs Rachel once more and turns to speak to a vendor about something. Turning back toward Mike, Harvey sees the stern look still in place on the younger man's face.

"You can't stop staring at her Harvey," Mike continues. "You've never been able to look away. She's the sun to you, man. Just wake up and see the light. Consider it my going away present, because I'm so tired of watching my two best friends fight this."

"She said she didn't want more, Mike," Harvey says quietly.

Mike just taps his hand on the table twice, then raises to stand, placing that same hand back on Harvey's shoulder, before adding one last thing. "Well, maybe, just maybe, she was protecting you. Like she always does. Like she always has."

Glancing up at Mike, Harvey just nods, at a loss for words once again. The gravity of that statement simply too much given the topic of conversation at hand.

"Just think about what I said," Mike says finally, turning to leave, before turning around once again, "You could be happy too, Harvey. Instead of whatever this is," Mike finishes, gesturing in Harvey's direction.

And then, he's alone at the table once more, watching as Mike joins his wife, kisses Donna's cheek whispering what clearly is a thanks, and grasping Rachel's hand then exiting the room.

He gazes on again silently, seeing Donna grasp her clutch from the table and take a final survey of the room, nodding at the vendors and without a glance in his direction, exits towards the elevators on the left.

Sitting in silence and without his favorite view, he chooses to glare into his now empty glass, running over and over the things Mike said.

Maybe she was just protecting him, maybe she was just protecting _them._

He had been so angry at her, but mostly he was angry at himself. He was angry that he kissed her back. He was angry that he didn't want to stop kissing her. He was angry that he was with someone that wasn't her. He was angry at his fear and his inner loathing and his stupid parents and lines and boundaries.

He realizes now, tracing the rim of his glass, that Mike is right. She is the sun, to him. She's the thing that keeps him spinning around, she's the one who brings light into his life. She's the only person who can pull him out of his trances, the only one who can truly see him for what he is and somehow still be there with him anyways.

Why the fuck has it taken him this long to realize that all of those things add up to love? Why the hell has it taken him until just now, tonight, to understand that this is what love is. Love is constant. She is constant.

Then, it's like a switch flips.

Suddenly, he's rising to his feet, circling the table, making his way through the doors to the front desk, asking for her room number. He's doing this now, before he loses his nerve.

He doesn't know what she'll say, the lingering feeling of fear still present, but he knows that if he doesn't at least tell her, she'll never know and he'll never get her answer and then they'll just be stuck in neutral, covered in boundary vines and walls so tall you can't see over the side.

He's done with the blockades.

Getting her room number from the attendant, he all but runs to the elevator doors, pressing the up button forty-five times until the lift finally arrives and he's pressing her floor and his foot taps persistently on the floor begging the machine to go faster, internally panting with the need to just get to her as fast as possible.

Then, he's running, untied tie falling to the floor carelessly, as he makes his way quickly down the hall to her door.

When he gets there, he's almost winded due to his fast pace and nerves, so he pauses and has one last fleeting thought of fear that swiftly turns into a greater fear of not knowing and then he's taking a deep breath, raising his hand and knocking three times.

The seconds before the latch unlocks are the longest seconds of his life. He hears the metal turn on its axis and he tries to attempt to formulate a thought of what to say but he comes up empty. Then, the door opens, and she's there, in front of him. The sun.

"Harvey," she questions with concern, pulling the hotel provided robe tighter around her form. "What are you doing here?"

He can't breathe, she's stolen his breath from his just like she's taken his soul.

"Donna—" he says, in that tone laced with longing and promise.

They just stare at each other and he sees all the emotions pass over her face, transitioning from concern to questioning to maybe just maybe a little bit of hope.

"Are you okay?" she asks, softly. He's familiar with that tone.

His hand grips the door jamb, and he gazes down to her bare feet, then his gaze travels her body, until he meets her eyes. Those eyes, filled with softness.

"I lied."

"You lied?" she asks, eyebrows furrowing, clearly trying to grasp what his meaning is.

He nods, then says, "When I said I didn't want more."

"What?" Donna whispers on a gasp, clearly floored. "Harvey—" she starts, hand fidgeting with the door handle.

"I do want more," he says, feeling like he can finally breathe. "I want all of you. Everything, everywhere, all the time."

His eyes are almost bloodshot with need and he feels that crippling fear creep up the back of his neck again, making his hairs stand on end because she's just staring at him, stunned to silence.

He's just about to turn and leave, thinking she did actually mean it when she said she didn't want more, that maybe she wasn't just telling him what he wanted to hear, maybe she was telling the truth, and then he sees tears prick at the corner of her eyes and her hand lets go of the door knob and she's on him.

Her hands pull him by the lapels of his jacket into her room and she shuts the door with his body and then her lips are on his pressed so tightly he can feel her kiss in his toes. It's a flurry of hands and hair and fingers and lips as they battle for dominance and he can barely breathe but he thinks she's his air so what does it matter.

Finally grasping control, he flips them around, her back now meeting the door and his lips leave her mouth and trail down her cheek to her jaw, then to her neck, searching for that spot he remembers and when he finds it she whimpers and gasps and her hands run through his hair and down to his neck pulling him closer even if he didn't think that was possible.

She's whimpering again as he makes his way up to her ear, grasping her lobe between his teeth and she's sighing and then he hears it.

"God, I—" she says on another whimper as he makes contact with her neck. "Harvey, I love you," she says in a tone so soft he would have missed it if he wasn't pressed so close against her.

The words finally connect to his brain and he pulls back just an inch so he can see her face, just so he can meet her gaze. Her eyes are closed when he finally pulls back far enough to take her all in.

"Donna," he says. "Donna, open your eyes."

It takes her a moment but she finally does, his eyes meet hers and then, "Donna, I love you."

This time she doesn't need to ask how, because the how is written all over his face. She doesn't have to ask him if he's sure because his _sure_ is pressed against her hip. She doesn't have to say anything else, because they've been silently speaking the same language for their entire relationship and now more than ever they're on the same page and that page is titled with the word forever.

After that, it's like a wildfire.

Her hands grasp his head once again and pull his lips to hers and she's all-consuming and he's melting into her, the way he wanted to on the dance floor and the way he wanted to in her office and the way he almost did the last time they did this.

He's pushing into her, grinding like his life depends on it, and she's whimpering and losing her footing, so he lifts her as her legs wrap around his waist and he carries her to the foot of the bed and places her down, mouth still pressed to hers.

His lips make their way to her neck again and she's unbuttoning his shirt with fervor, hands going straight to his belt and then his pants, pushing them from his hips and down his legs, as he discards his shoes and socks and pants, leaving him in his boxers and her still in her robe. He pulls the tie and then there she is in all her glory and again she's stolen his breath.

"Harvey," she says, because he's just staring and she doesn't know how much more she can take because this is too much and not enough and she just needs him.

Shaking his head out of his reverie, he lifts and places her on the bed and then he's crawling over her, lips meeting lips again, over and over, lost in each other and in this feeling and then her hands are falling down his back and pushing his briefs down his legs and then it's skin to skin and even more fire. He wants to take his time and worship every inch of her, but he knows that they have all night and he'll get his fill later.

"God, Harvey, _fuck_ —" she moans out, when his hands meets her center. "Now."

He doesn't need any more assurance than that.

He's pulling back and lining himself up and sinking inside and he swears starbursts appear behind his eyes and she's got her head tilted back so far he thinks she might snap her neck, but he takes that as an opportunity to bite the delicate flesh.

After a minute, her legs wrap around his back and then he's thrusting into her, their mutual moans and groans taking all the air from the room and it's like he can't get close enough to her, he wants to consume her the way she attacks his every thought.

"Donna—" he groans.

Then the best sight of the night hits him, as her head snaps up and her closed eyes pop open and then she's there with him and the look on her face is better than any he's ever seen in his dreams and he keeps going and she keeps whimpering and then after who knows how long, she's keening and whining and she's over the edge with him right behind her, following her the way he always has and always will.

It's moments of panting and collecting themselves, and then he slips out as she sighs at the loss and he's flipping himself over to the other side of the bed and pulling her close, hand in her hair while hers traces the divot in his chest.

She's drawing lazy patterns all over his abdomen, before she stills and her chin presses to his pec and she meets his eyes and the smile she sends him almost makes him want to sob with relief and happiness.

"Hey," he says, in that tone reserved just for her.

"Hi," she responds, shyly.

"What?" he questions, knowing there's unanswered thoughts behind her eyes.

She just shakes her head in response, leans up and grazes her lips against his. Pulling back from him, she cuddles in closer, head pressed to his chest again, as his fingers continue to graze her hair.

They'll talk later, in between the second and third rounds, and he'll explain that just like a light switch in a darkened room, his feelings just suddenly flipped on. He'll detail his conversation with Mike and she'll smirk in that knowing Donna way and they'll say I love you and I want you and eventually they'll say forever.

But for now, right now in this moment, they just need the silence of his epiphany and the acceptance of the love that they'd been denying themselves for so long.

Right now, they just need each other.

—

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys for reading! Comments / reviews / criticism are always welcome!


End file.
